


The Real You

by AderaReam



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Backstory, Duck is actually a girl, Duck is human, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Royalty, Weddings, fight me, her name is Duck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AderaReam/pseuds/AderaReam
Summary: A few months after the Raven is defeated, Rue and Mytho send out invitations to their wedding. Before the ceremony, things come to light about our favorite bird. What is the truth behind Duck's life, and will it break apart everything these friends have ever known?I'm aging up the characters a bit, Rue, Mytho and Fakir are all 18, while Duck is 16.





	1. An Invitation and an Insight

_Once upon a time, there was a man, who died. He had been a writer and spinner of stories. He preferred tragedies over all other stories, claiming that happy endings were boring. The last story he wrote was about a handsome prince who loves all and is loved by all who defeats a dastardly raven who loves no one. The prince and the raven escaped from the story and into the world, unfortunately, the man could control that as well. But, not to the extent that he thought. Together, prince, princess, knight, and duck came together to give the story a happy ending, but is it truly the end of the story? Or is it just the beginning of a much larger tale?_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Fakir was sitting in his usual spot in a chair on the dock of Duck’s lake, watching her swim as he wrote. It had been about three months since the defeat of the Raven, and Gold Crown was back to normal. All of the people who had been animals were back to their human form, or, like in the case of Mr. Cat, their cat form.

 

The slowest thing to return to Fakir was his memories from before the story started. That had been a frustrating discovery, that he only remembered the portions of his life that were necessary for Drosselmeyer’s plot. It was hard, not remembering most of his life, but he was getting back little bits and pieces all the time. He wondered if the same was true for Duck. Even though she was back to being a bird, her gaze remained intelligent, and he knew she understood him, as well as remembered their time in the story.

 

“Duck, it’s getting late, lets go.” He called, packing up his supplies and reeling in his fishing line. He got a loud quack in response and looked down just in time to see her hop up onto the dock and shake the water off of her feathers.

 

“Here.” He held out a hand to her, as he always did.

 

“Quack!” She said, jumping into his hand like she always did.

 

He shifted her up onto his shoulder. “Okay?” he asked. When he got an affirmative quack he turned and headed back into town.

 

Fakir made his way to Karon’s house, nodding a greeting to his former classmates as he passed them. Without Mytho or Duck at the academy, he had seen no reason to stay and was content to spend his days at the lake with Duck. The only person who knew even remotely what he had gone through other than Duck was Autor, and Autor was an asshole.

 

“Hi Fakir!” came a rather scratchy voice.

 

“Hello you two!” came a floaty, high pitched echo. Speaking of assholes…

 

“Hello Pike, Lillie.” Fakir said, stopping a few feet away from Duck’s old friends.

 

“Quack!” Duck called out in greeting.

“Oh, look, you still have that duck! Oh how cute!” Lillie cried, getting far too close into Fakir’s personal space.

 

“Lillie, please.” His eyebrow twitched. He put a hand on the blonde girl’s shoulder and gently but firmly shoved her away.

 

“When are you coming back to class?” Pike shoved past Lillie, reinserting herself into the conversation.

 

“I have told you multiple times” he stressed the words “that I’m not going back to the academy.”

 

“But Fakir!” Pike pouted. “We all miss you, and don’t you miss dancing?”

 

“Not particularly.” That was only a partial lie, he did miss dancing, a bit, but not having to put up with all of the fawning that the girls in class did outweighed it by a large margin. “I enrolled in the academy for Mytho’s sake. Now that he’s gone, I see no reason to continue.”

 

“You’re so cold.” Pike shivered.

 

“But that’s why I love you.” Lillie chirped. Fakir startled at the blatant pronouncement.

 

“Uh, no, I love Fakir!”

 

“You wanna battle?” Lillie’s voice took on a dark tone.

 

The first time they had done this, Fakir had startled horribly and Duck had quacked and pecked at her two friends until they calmed down and went away. Now, the two of them just use the opportunity to escape into the house. Pike and Lillie were always fighting, it seemed to be an integral part of their friendship, along with finding a third person to harass.

 

“Why were you friends with them again?” He asked her.

 

“Quack!” She pecked him in the head.

 

“Ow! Alright, fine, I won’t talk about them.” He rubbed his head dislodging Duck from her perch  on his shoulder.

 

She flapped over to the table and sat herself down in the basket on the chair that was reserved for her.

 

Fakir went over to the counter and set down his writing supplies. He grabbed some bread and tore off a chunk to offer Duck as an apology. She quacked at him, everything forgiven, and pecked at the bread. He watched her a moment, amused, before turning and starting on dinner for himself and Karon.

 

When Karon got home the three of them sat down for a meal together as they usually did, before Fakir took Duck upstairs, leaving Karon to wash up.

 

Fakir spent the remainder of the evening writing, with duck sitting in a special basket to watch. His candle guttered out. Fakir looked up in the dark room lit only by moonlight to see that Duck was fast asleep, and probably had been so for a while. He stretched, joints popping as he came out of his hunched posture. He scooped up Duck in one arm and took her to the bathroom.

 

She woke up briefly while he was running the bath, but just as quickly fell back asleep. When the water was a reasonable depth, he gently put her in the bathtub. She bobbed around a bit before automatically finding her balance, and if it were possible, began to sleep even more deeply.

 

Fakir shook the water off of his hand and petted Duck lightly on her head before going back to his own room and his own bed.

 

The next morning, Fakir was awoken by a tapping on his window. He blinked in the predawn light that seemed much brighter than usual, to find a giant, glowing swan at his window.

 

“Ahhhhhhhh!” He fell off his bed with a loud thump, landing on his ass. He heard a loud quack from the bathroom and the beating of wings before he felt Duck dumping herself into his lap, frantically checking him over and quacking what he was sure was a litany of questions about his well being.

 

“I’m fine, Duck, I was just startled.” He said calmly.

 

“Quack?” She looked up at him with big blue eyes.

 

“Really.” He assured, smiling softly down at her.

 

“Quack!” She was excited. She flapped over to the window and pushed it open, letting the swan that Fakir had forgotten about into the room.

 

“Duck---” he was cut off by the sight of the swan putting down a letter and flying out of the room. He looked at Duck who looked back, shaking her wings at him as if to say ‘go on, open it!’

 

“Fine.” He picked up the letter, which upon closer inspection seemed to be an invitation. Suddenly realizing what must have made Duck so excited, he hurriedly opened it to have his suspicions confirmed.

 

_Dear Sir/Madam,_

_You are invited to the wedding of_

_Prince Siegfried and Miss Rue._

_The wedding will be held in three months time, and transportation will be provided for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Their Royal Majesties Siegmund and Sieglinde of Corona._

 

At the bottom of the invitation was a note.

 

_Dear Fakir,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t write the entire invitation myself. I have much to tell you and I hope you and Tutu will attend mine and Rue’s wedding. I look forward to seeing you._

_Mytho_

 

Fakir looked up from the invitation just as a white glow once more took over the room. The swan dropped the letter right in front of Duck this time before flying away. Fakir closed the window and opened Duck’s invite for her so that she could read it herself.

 

Duck’s invitation was much the same as Fakir’s except her’s contained a note from Rue.

 

_Duck,_

_It has been a whirlwind for me here in the story, Royal weddings are such a busy affair, as is learning how to be a princess. I know it might be embarrassing for you to come to my wedding as a bird, but I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t ask. Especially since everyone that had been involved in the story is invited, although I can’t help but hope that Femio’s invitation will get lost. I hope that you will come. I want to have my best friend by my side on my wedding day, even if you won’t be able to be directly involved in the proceedings._

_Please come._

_Your friend,_

_Rue_

 

Duck had gone from tears to laughter and back to tears at the contents of the note. Of course she would come! She wouldn’t have missed it for the world, even if Rue had been embarrassed about having a bird as a guest.

 

Duck signaled to Fakir that she had something important to tell him. He settled down to watch her.

“Okay, so that is the mime for write. You want me to write something for you?” He guessed. Duck quacked affirmatively, moving onto the next mime.

 

“Letter?” Another quack.

 

Duck’s last mime was of her pointing to herself, before tapping on Rue’s signature.

 

“You want me to use my power to write you a letter to Rue?” Duck jumped up and quacked in victory.

 

“Alright, but let's eat breakfast first.” Duck gave an agreeable quack and followed him down the stairs.

 

The two of them found Karon sitting at the kitchen table, holding his own invitation in his hand.

 

“Ah, I was just about to get the two of you up.” He said, looking up. “Did you get one of these as well?”

 

“We both did.” Fakir confirmed, sitting at the table across from the other man.

 

“Both of you? Well, you did save them after all.” Karon got to his feet and began making breakfast.

 

Fakir helped Duck into her basket. He could tell she was thinking hard, probably about the letter that she wanted him to write. Duck didn’t ask for him to write much, and she always thought hard about it beforehand. Like she was afraid that he would get mad and refuse to write for her if it took more than a few tries. As if she hadn’t watched him fill up multiple trash bins with his own failed attempts.

  


The three of them ate their breakfast and then it was Fakir’s turn to do the dishes. He lingered more than he would have usually, to get himself ready to write, and to give Duck more time to get her thoughts in order. When she had something she really wanted to say, Duck tended to be profound in her speech and he didn’t want her to feel rushed. However, there were only so many dishes.

 

Fakir turned back to the table and scooped Duck out of her basket. He gently tucked her into the crook of his arm and carefully made his way back to his room so as to not jostle her and make her lose her concentration.

 

He set her down in the basket on his desk and got his pen ready. Then, he waited.

 

Fakir could feel it, when it started. The words tingling in his fingers and up his arms, slowly flowing over his entire body. This was an experience he always cherished. When Drosselmeyer had taken control of his powers, the movements were mechanical the magic jerky and harsh like a poorly made clock; Duck was different. When the magic pulled him to her, it did so completely. It felt like he was slowly being pulled into her lake. Not the ocean, which was dark and dangerous, but Duck’s lake which was small and safe. It was shallow enough that even from the bottom you could see sunlight streaming through the surface. The gentle ebb and flow of the magic enveloped him and he floated away, following the thread of Duck’s thoughts and wishes as his pen brought those words into being. He didn’t have to think like this, not really, he just had to be a conduit for Duck.

 

When he finished, Fakir leaned back, eyes closed. He let the magic wash back out of him slowly, until the last tingling of his fingers faded. Only once it was all gone did he open his eyes.

 

Duck was used to this process, of her magic merging with his. It left her feeling calm, and a bit bereft, as Fakir felt like life and growing things when their magics wound together. Still, she looked away from Fakir to read over what the two of them had written.

 

_Dear Rue,_

_Just so you know, Fakir is writing this for me, but the words are entirely my own, so don’t worry._

_I was so glad when I got the invitation to your and Mytho’s wedding! I hope that these past few months have been happy ones for the both of you, and I have so much to tell you as well. But the first thing you should know is that I would always have found a way to come to your wedding, even if you did not invite me. I love you both and I want to share in your joy however I can. Even if you were embarrassed to see me or say hello because I’m a bird._

_I completely understand that I can’t be in the wedding party, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to if I could! Maybe I could be the ring-bearer? But you probably already thought of that. I’ll just stay in the audience then, or on a bannister or windowsill if that would be easier._

_As for what I wanted to tell you, things in Gold Crown have finally gotten back to normal, mostly. Fakir quit the academy, but Pike and Lillie are trying to convince him to come back. Well, I think they are. Either that or they just needed someone new to gang up on. They do remember me as a girl, but they never knew I was a duck so Fakir just told them that I left after the Raven was defeated. They didn’t question it. We’re both living with Karon, and we told him the whole story. Autor knows too, of course, but he and Fakir don’t really like each other so he doesn’t come around much. Everyone else who was a part of the story remembers it, except for people who were only involved in the final battle with the Raven, and I think most of them have become friends. It is a pretty crazy thing to go through when no one else remembers._

_Raetsel and Hans have gotten married and Raetsel thinks that she’s pregnant. She wants it to be a little girl, and she said she wants to name it after me! I asked her not to, doing that would probably only make life hard on her like it did for me when I was a girl._

_Uzura is still missing. It’s been hard not knowing where she is, but we think she might be with Drosselmeyer in the Space Between Reality and Stories. I hope she’s alright. Oh, did you know that Mr. Cat was actually a cat? Most of our other animal classmates and teachers returned to their human form, like Anteaterina (her real name is Erina) and Ms. Goatette (that’s her real name) but Mr. Cat is usually lounging around near the pizzeria with his kittens._

_I miss both you and Mytho a lot, and I can’t wait to see you. Although, by the time you read this I probably already have. The point is that you are my best friend, Rue._

_Sincerely,_

_Duck_

 

“Well, it definitely sounds like you.” Fakir said.

 

‘What’s that supposed to mean?!?!’ Duck quacked, irritated.

 

Fakir chuckled. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. It’s just that Rue will definitely know I didn’t have any input in writing it.”

 

Duck cocked her head to the side and squinted a bit, as if she wanted to argue semantics, but finally gave in and nodded.

 

Fakir chuckled again and tested the page to make sure the ink was dry. When it was he folded it up and lit a candle. He let the wax fall onto the flap of the paper to seal up Duck’s letter, then addressed it to Rue before putting it in a very visible place on his desk.

 

“Since we’ll have to bring it with us to the wedding, we don’t want to forget it.” Duck quacked in agreement.

 

Fakir packed up his supplies and put Duck on his shoulder, and together they went out to her lake.

 

The day was fair and Fakir put out his fishing line, not really caring if he caught anything. Duck swam around, generally keeping close to the dock, but sometimes she darted away to chase something shiny.

 

Fakir had his writing board on his knees and was letting his mind wander where it would. It came back, as it often did, to Duck. Even though she was physically a duck, mentally she was very much the girl she had been within the story. Fakir wondered how powerful Drosselmeyer must have been to give an entire human mind and personality to a bird, and even have her retain it once he was no longer around.

 

_The man’s experiment had failed. He had tried with every bird he could think of that was not a corvid, but none of the girls he had created were even close to seeming human, much less fit to become his tragic prima donna Princess Tutu._

_“No, no, no this won’t do at all!” The man cried, pacing in a circle. “I need a girl, a tragic girl, to be Princess Tutu, but none of these bird brains cut it!”_

_Pulling at his hair in frustration, the man decided to check in on the other part of his plan, the prince at the dance academy._

_He watched from his rocking chair as the beginning dance class met. There was the prince, his knight, and the Raven’s daughter just as they were supposed to be. All of the students were warming up, when a bright shock of red caught the man’s eye._

_He turned away from the prince to see a girl struggling on her own. The two other girls beside her were talking to her, but did not appear to be helping in the slightest. One of them finally huffed and pushed the red head further to the floor._

_“Quack!” The redhead cried in pain, and suddenly, the man knew._

_“If I cannot truly make a duck into a girl, why not make a girl think she has always been a duck? Oh, yes, that will do quite nicely I think.” So the man began spinning his magic around the young dancer._

_The man made everyone around her forget the girl that she used to be. He gave her dreams of being a bird, planting the seeds of a life she had never had and a love that she had never known, and then, he laid a curse upon her to believe that was her true form and that love the truest love in her heart. It was easy enough as the prince was always meant to be beloved by all to push a young girl’s heart in the proper direction._

_A necklace and a task, was given to the girl turned duck, and she became a girl once more, but only by the man’s leave; only if she did as he said. The man laughed at his cleverness. Even if the girl did not turn into a speck of light and vanish by professing her love to the prince and becoming the true Princess Tutu, she would give back the final heart shard as her heart dictates and be a duck for the rest of her life. It was the perfect outcome to the man, and, now that all of his players were on the stage it was time to set the wheels in motion to his magnum opus of tragedy._


	2. A Decision is Reached

Fakir looked at what he had written, numb. He knew in his bones, in his magic, that it was the truth and he didn’t know what to do. His first thought was to tell Duck, surely she should know what Drosselmeyer had done, but what if she didn’t want to know and the knowledge made her unhappy? What if it made her hate him for revealing it? She had been willing and content with being a Duck for the rest of her life, just as he was to stay by her side, but what if this changed everything? Of course it changed everything Duck was a girl!

 

“Oh god.” Fakir whispered. Was Duck even her name? It couldn’t be, could it?

 

Who would name their child Duck? Was her family still alive? Who were they? Where were they? Could he find them?

 

He had to tell Duck. She needed to know. He really, really didn’t want to be the one to tell her. But who else was there?

 

Fakir wished his powers extended to raising Drosselmeyer from the dead so that he could kill him again. He tore at his hair, hoping against hope that the pain would help clear his head. He had to tell her. She deserved to hear it, but God it might break her.

 

His head snapped up. He stared at Duck for a long, long time where she floated on the lake, gazing worriedly back at him. He had an idea. He would have to go about it carefully, but he could probably do it. Gently, oh so very gently, he dipped his pen in his ink and began to write once more.

 

Hours passed. The sun went from morning to midday to afternoon. Paper littered the dock where he sat, fishing pole lying abandoned, leaning halfway into the water. Duck hopped up onto the dock and cleared a space in the balled up wads of paper, careful to not drop any in the water, and sat down, waiting.

 

It was only a lack of light that made Fakir look up from his writing. He squinted in the dimness, trying to find Duck on the lake.

 

“I’m here!” she quacked.

 

He startled and looked down at his side. She looked back at him with big, worried eyes.

 

“I’m alright.” He said softly. With her help, he picked up all of his discarded writing and the pair made their way back towards home.

 

Karon didn’t say anything when the two came in late, nor did he make a remark about the quiet. He ate his dinner and left the dishes for Fakir, patting his adoptive son on the shoulder as he passed.

 

Fakir was still quiet as he got ready for bed, and Duck opted to sleep in her basket instead of the bath in order to be close to him.

 

“Duck….” he trailed off.

 

She quacked softly.

 

“I…. it’s…. I have something I need to show you, but in the morning, okay?” He turned pleading eyes on her dimly lit form.

 

She gave another soft quack and settled further into her basket. Taking that as acquiescence, Fakir went to bed himself, but sleep was a long time in coming.

Fakir woke feeling as if he had not slept at all. The sky was the grey of predawn and Fakir laid in his bed, staring at his ceiling, filled with dread. He lay there as Duck slept on. He could faintly hear tiny snores coming from her basket. He watched as the room slowly lightened, the shadows shifting slowly over the wall. It was only when Duck quacked herself awake that he pulled himself out of bed.

 

He made breakfast silently, and ate it just as subdued. Duck and Karon both shot him worried glances over their meals and Karon did the dishes the fastest that he ever had. Fakir had gone up to get his writing supplies and took them both to the lake, sitting on the dock with Duck beside him.

 

He took a deep breath. He took another. He pulled the paper he had written on out of his shirt and carefully unfolded it. He took another breath and placed the paper down on the dock, his inkwell on one corner and his writing board all down the opposite side to keep it pinned, then he turned away and waited.

 

He could hear Duck shift as she read, feathers rustling ever so slightly in the breeze. He heard a webbed foot come down on the last corner of the paper to keep it flat as she read.

 

Then silence. Stillness beside him. They sat like that, neither moving.

 

“Why?” A soft quack. “Why? Why? Why!?! WHY??? WHY!?!?!?!?!” the hiccupping quacks grew louder and more frantic as she went, tears welling and spilling freely as she wailed as much as a duck was able.

 

Fakir couldn’t take it anymore and scooped her up into his arms. He held the small bird as she continued her pained quacking, shaking with the force of her despair. He cried too. He let out all of the tears that he had held in for the past day, all of his pain for the girl turned bird he held close.

 

Eventually, the tears ended. The shaking died down. The sobs dried up, and both man and bird were tired to their core. Fakir packed up his things, never letting go of Duck. He brought them back home and up to his room, their room, dropping his things carelessly on his desk and himself, more carefully on his bed. He and Duck fell asleep together that afternoon and didn’t wake until the next morning in the exact position they had been in.

 

Fakir and Duck stared at each other in the early morning light. The look bounced back and forth between them, gaining strength as it did, and with the strength of their gaze came a strength in their hearts.

 

“Right.” Fakir said, pushing himself up and getting out of bed.

 

“Quack!” Duck echoed, hopping up herself.

“We beat him once, defied the fate he wrote for us before and made our own,and we can do it again. This will not define us, and it will not defeat us.” Fakir vowed. “Together, we’ll break your curse, and you will be you again, the true you. For real this time. And if I can, if it’s in my power, I’ll do it before Rue and Mytho’s wedding so you can stand by her side.”

 

“Thank you!” Duck quacked, throwing herself at him in a hug.

 

He nodded at her firmly, and then went downstairs to make a big breakfast. They would need a lot of energy if they were going to break a curse this big.

  
  
  


The next weeks were a study in frustration that Fakir hadn’t experienced since he had first gone to Autor for help.

 

They started by the lake, but Duck was too antsy to swim for long and the words weren’t coming. If words did come, they were entirely the wrong ones. For some reason, he and Duck couldn’t connect their magic, and it made them both frustrated and short tempered.

 

Fakir started writing around Gold Crown. He slipped onto Academy grounds, writing in the library, the practice room for dance students, even the drama section’s storage room. He went to the prodding bridge and the cabin he had kept Mytho in nearby. He went to talk with the tree. He and Duck walked the walls around Gold Crown, he even got desperate and went to Drosselmeyer’s grave.

 

Duck pulled him to a few places. They spent some time in the garden that Freya tended to, and to Ebine’s restaurant. Both women were glad to see them, and even more so when they realized that Fakir and Duck had been part of the story. Fakir left Ebine’s with a new favorite restaurant, but still no closer to bringing Duck back to the girl she was supposed to be.

 

Sometimes, when the pressure got to him, he would turn his attention  to the world of stories. He would look in on Mytho and, at Duck’s request, Rue’s days and see how they were doing. It calmed him, reassured him that his magic was still working, but for some reason wasn’t working for what he wanted.

 

Every day, Duck would wake up energized and ready to try again, to help in any way she could. Every night, she went to bed disappointed, but not upset with him. It killed him, to see that cycle repeat every single day. He wanted this for her. He wanted to see her standing in the wedding party, smiling brilliantly as Rue and Mytho said their vows. He wanted to see her dance again, like she always loved to do, even when she wasn’t any good. He wanted to hear her voice again. He wanted Duck back. He wanted Duck.

 

He had woken up in the dead of night, unable to find rest. He slipped out of bed an lit the candle on his writing desk. He wrote, he wrote his heart out. All of his pain and longing and love spilled out of him, his desperation to see Duck as human once more. All of that feeling coalesced on the page until sitting there in front of him was a bright blue pendant on a silver chain, the exact same shade as her eyes.

 

When she woke up the next morning, Fakir’s desk had been cleared away and he was dressed.

 

“Duck, I think I’ve done it, at least part of the way.” He held up the pendant.

 

“Fakir!” She quacked and hugged him with her little wings.

 

He picked her up, put her and the pendant on the bed where one of his mother’s old dresses was laying, with a cup of water on the windowsill. She quacked when she noticed it.

 

“I don’t think you’ll need it, but just in case.” He said. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He stepped out of the room.

 

Duck stared for a long while at the pendant. She tapped at it with a wing, examined the jewel from all sides. Finally she slid the chain over her head and felt a very familiar shift.

 

“Woah!” She had landed on her feet with a thud and immediately overbalanced, thankfully falling back onto the bed instead of face first onto the floor.

 

She looked up at the ceiling. She reached out a hand. A hand! She had hands! She had whole arms, in fact. She was human! Gloriously, completely human. She giggled a bit, reveling in her new/old body, before realizing she was naked. In Fakir’s bed. Naked. Bed. Fakir. Bed. Naked.

 

Duck went red, quacked, and flinched. She blinked open her eyes to see nothing had changed. She quacked again. Still too tall to be a duck. Quack, still had hands. Quack, still naked. Still naked! She dove for the dress on the bed and scrambled into it. She had to pull the laces tight, but thankfully Fakir’s mom hadn’t been that much taller than her. She had no shoes but at least she was dressed.

 

The giddiness returned and she flew to the door, flinging it open and herself at the man who still waited behind it.

 

“Thank you, Fakir, truly.”


End file.
